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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077768">Forever (you are my) home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/macarmua/pseuds/macarmua'>macarmua</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Property Brothers RPF, Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Feelings, Fluff and Humor, Jonathan POV, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Outsider, Pack Feels, Rebuilding the Hale House, The Property Brothers x Teen Wolf crossover nobody asked for, thinly veiled critiques to the bourgeoisie™</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:35:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/macarmua/pseuds/macarmua</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Scott had done his fair share of weird renovations for eccentric homeowners.</p><p>He wasn't expecting this one in a small town in California to be the weirdest of them all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale &amp; Jonathan Silver Scott, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Jonathan Silver Scott &amp; Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>635</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Forever (you are my) home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't believe that after eight years of reading in this fandom this is the first time I'm writing in it.</p><p>Anyway, I've been watching an unhealthy amount of home renovation shows, and last night had this "Stiles and Derek would drive Jonathan insane and he'd love it" thought and now here this is.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>In all his years over this line of work, Jonathan Scott had encountered some Weird Shit. Hell, they'd even picked a couple of projects up just because they were weird enough to make for an entertaining episode. </p><p> </p><p>So, he'd thought he'd seen pretty much everything. Do you want a bedroom for your cat? Easy. An indoor lake that costs more than a small house in the south of Italy? No problem. Does the idea of an ugly furry neon wall make you weep with joy? Suit yourself, Jonathan wouldn't have to be the one to see it every day for the next couple of decades. </p><p> </p><p>So, when they'd reviewed the tape for that nice gay couple (really, their show needed at least <em>some</em> flavor of diversity, one rich white gay couple a decade seemed the least they could do) who wanted a house in a specific small town somewhere in California, it seemed easy enough. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The first few days of filming went on as usual. The quieter one, Derek, didn't exactly look pleased to have them there, eyeing them and their equipment distrustfully, even threateningly, as if he wasn't wearing the softest looking sweater Jonathan had ever seen. </p><p> </p><p>His husband, tho, seemed friendly enough, shooting him an amused fake glare and swatting at his arm before going back to chattering away with Drew. </p><p> </p><p>They were still defining the search parameters for suitable properties to remodel (while the budget wasn't a problem at all, according to them, the area of search was very, very reduced. Suspiciously so. Did he really hear Stiles says something about pack territory?) when Derek cleared his throat, eyes firm on them as he said he already had land in their desired area, actually. </p><p> </p><p>Stiles had gaped at him, flailing in place for a moment before taking his hand in both of his, seemingly both in reassurance and a silent question, so intimate Jonathan almost wanted to look away. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you sure?" He'd asked, so quietly it was obviously meant to be a question for his husband only, "We've talked about this, there's really no need if you're not sure, dude."</p><p> </p><p>Derek had rolled his eyes fondly, "Yeah, I'm sure, <em>dude</em>," his smile had gone fonder then, only for Stiles, "It'd be good, I think," he'd shrugged, and the smile he'd gotten back was positively blinding.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The house, if you could even call it that, was... A mess. Burnt to the crisp. Well, not completely, most of its outer walls were still standing, although it seemed a structural nightmare from wherever you looked at it. He was pretty sure the wiring and plumbing would have to be redone completely, and there weren't enough beams or columns to hold up the ceiling in the whole country. </p><p> </p><p>The foundation was maybe (<em>maybe</em>) the only thing possibly salvageable. Maybe. </p><p> </p><p>Both them and their production team had tried to get the couple to just search for another house, one they could easily remodel. With their apparently infinite budget, it wouldn't be hard at all.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, it would take much, much longer than their usual 8 weeks to make this place somewhere habitable, and while they hadn't finalized contracts with their next clients, this would definitely mess with their schedules. </p><p> </p><p>But they'd been adamant about their decision, Stiles quietly taking Drew away from the filming crew to explain that it'd been Derek's home when he'd been young, and now they wanted it to be their forever home. </p><p> </p><p>Well, shit. Maybe they could turn this into a whole special episode. Maybe even a season of its own. </p><p> </p><p>They conducted the beginning interviews without further issues, taking some shots of them walking hand in hand along the Preserve, playing lacrosse with a couple of their equally beautiful friends, laughing charmingly as they cooked with Stiles’ dad.</p><p> </p><p>(Honestly, the scene was supposed to show just <em>how cramped</em> their current living conditions were. How were three grown adults supposed to live comfortably in 3000 square feet? How were they supposed to cook without bumping into each other in <em>such</em> a small kitchen, which wasn't even an open plan?</p><p> </p><p>These two, though, somehow managed to make it look good, comfy and domestic as they moved around each other, as if they'd done synchronized choreography for years.</p><p> </p><p>Drew had gotten so many dumb jokes into the shooting even Jonathan was getting annoyed with him, and if he had to watch him fake dance ballet <em>one more time-</em>)</p><p> </p><p>The camera team was all over them, gushing about how picture-perfect they were, how the light reflected on Derek's whimsical eyes, how Stiles dimples made him look mischievous and fun, how they were clearly in love and the camera could tell.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever.</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan was slightly more worried about the whole designing and building the burnt down house, thank you very much. After all, everyone knew that, out of the two of them, he was the only one that really put work into the renovations.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The thing about Jonathan was that he usually knew what to expect out of houses. He could take one look at a mid-century house and guess which walls would have asbestos, could tap a flooring with his boot and more or less figure out how much the foundations would cost, could open one tiny hole in a wall and see whether it was structural or not.</p><p> </p><p>But this. This was probably the biggest challenge he'd ever had.</p><p> </p><p>A couple of days into filming, once Derek seemed to have relaxed around them enough not to sound like he was growling every time he opened his mouth, he'd mentioned that he'd attempted to renovate his family's property more than once over the years, but every time something had come up (the way he said that somehow warned Jonathan against asking) and that was eventually what had gotten him to agree to put a project of this magnitude in their hands.</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan had put on his winning smile, the one that usually made the wives giggle and playfully slap his arm, and assured him that he knew what he was doing and that they would make sure his house turned out perfect.</p><p> </p><p><em>Did</em> he know what he was doing, tho?</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Derek seemed to know he wasn't as confident as he'd made it sound.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 1: 14 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>The day the demolition was set to start, Jonathan woke up feeling cautiously positive about the whole project.</p><p> </p><p>The house would be huge, truly something to make a special season about. With 7 double bedrooms with en-suites (room enough for each and every one of those friends who'd popped up at the most random of shooting times to stay over and have their own places), a full library with research spaces, an open plan first floor with room for almost a dozen adults to lounge around and have dinner, a kitchen of practically industrial size and quality and a pantry to match it, without even having to worry about the budget (really, how rich were this people?), it sounded pretty much like a dream project came true. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, their engineer had given them the okay to go through with the demolition, assuring them that while it was metaphorically falling apart,  the basic structure of the house was firm enough to hold while they worked and that they could reinforce the foundation and it would be as good as new, fire damage notwithstanding. So, preserving the original shell of the house and pretty much building the whole interior was what they were going to do.</p><p> </p><p>While the owners usually helped with demolition, more for the fun of feeling like they were participating in it (and so that they were already there when the inevitable bad news surfaced) than for any help they actually provided, Jonathan had given Stiles and Derek a way out this time.</p><p> </p><p>Surely, seeing the house he'd grown up in being demolished after all these years couldn't be easy, even if it had been pretty much destroyed in the fire. While they liked a couple of tears for the show and everything, they didn't want to traumatize the guy either.</p><p> </p><p>But Derek had accepted, as well as pretty much all of their friends (the scary one that had gone over the structural details with their engineer was apparently flying out of the country to receive some sort of Mathematics award), so Jonathan did his thing and handed out protective goggles and gloves and mazes, before dividing them into groups and giving each of them a harmless area to swat at with their mazes until they got bored and left the rest to their team.</p><p> </p><p>That... wasn't what happened.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he turned around to explain why they were waiting to take down one of the kitchen walls to Stiles (and the camera), turning back to the group in charge of removing the ruined granite counter when he heard a thump.</p><p> </p><p>For the first time in pretty much years, he was completely speechless.</p><p> </p><p>Because there wasn't even a kitchen anymore. One of the girls, who couldn't weigh more than 120 pounds wet, had cleanly removed the counter, tossing it to the junk pile as if it weighed nothing, while their other friend was tearing down the cabinets with one hand, the other one too busy with his phone.</p><p> </p><p>"Erica! Isaac! What- guys!" Stiles spluttered.</p><p> </p><p>They both turned to him distractedly, Isaac saying "I was just updating Lyds, chill," before Jonathan had first seats view of the very intense eyes-and-eyebrows conversation that followed.</p><p> </p><p>Erica pouted, giving a very put upon sigh before turning back to tug pathetically at one of the remaining cabinet doors, "Oh no, woe me, this is so hard, what will I do?" before she and Isaac started laughing so hard the latter almost dropped his phone.</p><p> </p><p>While Stiles shook his head and muttered about stupid kids who wanted to show off, Jonathan missed neither the way a fond smile tugged at Stiles’ lips, nor that Erica had ripped the remaining cabinet from the wall once she was done laughing.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 21: 16 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>It was pretty late in the evening, so Jonathan took a moment to blink, look away, and blink again to see if his eyes were deceiving him.</p><p> </p><p>When he looked back, Stiles and Lydia were still messing with the wet concrete of his flooring.</p><p> </p><p>They seemed to be drawing something (possibly writing things? Who knew, definitely not Jonathan) with their fingers, muttering to themselves as they did.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh... guys?" he asked, and Stiles startled (Lydia didn't. They hadn't known each other long, but Jonathan already knew nothing could startle her), "What are you doing here?"</p><p> </p><p>No one was supposed to be here, exactly because today they had applied the concrete underfloor, and while his men knew how to navigate the place without ruining it, he didn't count on anyone else being careful enough.</p><p> </p><p>To his relief, a quick glance around told him that nothing else was messed with at all, other than the opposing corners of the room Stiles and Lydia were sitting at (which would be covered by the actual flooring soon enough, that wasn't the issue).</p><p> </p><p>Which was...</p><p> </p><p>"Jonathan! Hi! What are you doing here? We..." Stiles looked frantically at Lydia, who was standing up, straightening her skirt and fixing her hair like she didn't have a worry in the world.</p><p> </p><p>"We were inscribing runes into the foundations of the house," she finally said, and Jonathan faintly heard Stiles sound as if he was choking on air.</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan let the silence sit for a moment, hoping for an explanation he knew wouldn't come. "... Why?"</p><p> </p><p>Lydia shrugged, "Good luck. You know, superstitions from ancient cultures."</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan nodded, as if that made sense at all.</p><p> </p><p>"It wouldn't hurt filling the house with a little bit of good magic for protection, would it?"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 47: 17 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan was also pretty used to dealing with future homeowners, could have one conversation with them and figure out where to push to get them to open their wallets, see who'd break into tears when he told them the wiring would need redoing, who'd insist in the expensive and not practical at all detail they'd have to order from out of the state and pray for its safe arrival and, most importantly, know pretty much exactly which kind of bullshit they'd come up with in the middle of renovations.</p><p> </p><p>The first few extra requests seemed reasonable enough.</p><p> </p><p>Derek wanted completely soundproofed rooms? Expensive, but possible. Every window being bulletproof? Paranoid, but who was he to judge? An oven fit for baking for 40 people at the time? A little big for Jonathan's design, but nothing that'd mess the kitchen distribution up too much.</p><p> </p><p>Electric fireplace and fireproofed everything? Literally the least he could do for them. </p><p> </p><p>He had jotted down their very specific texture and color instructions, had raised his eyebrows when they said that every surface should de easy to clean and hard to stain with... fluids (he didn't want to know. Really. He refused to know) and had nodded politely while they discussed the pros and cons of different types of flooring, stating his opinion every now and then even if he couldn't really comment on whether laminate flooring was really as unscratchable from claws as that one website Stiles had found claimed.</p><p> </p><p>But this here...</p><p> </p><p>"You want <em>what</em> in your basement?" Jonathan asked. Surely, he'd misheard. Surely, Stiles couldn't be asking him for-</p><p> </p><p>"A cell," Stiles repeated, his strained smile at least telling Jonathan that he knew exactly what he was asking.  He'd even waited until the cameras were focused on... Whatever it was Drew was doing back in the garden to make his request.</p><p> </p><p>"Like... a prison cell? That kind of cell?" Jonathan confirmed, a small but hopeful part of himself holding on to the chance that maybe they were into those sensory deprivation meditation things and they were called cells, or something of the sort.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," Stiles said, scratching the back of his neck, "Look, we already have one, I'll just... email you the size and all that shit. For the blueprints, you know."</p><p> </p><p>"Can I just ask..." Nope, no, he shouldn't, he didn't want to know and he shouldn't know and- "<em>Why?</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"You see we run a uhm... Wolf rescue! Yeah! A wolf rescue program. We uhh... rescue wolves. Sometimes. And need to have somewhere to put them. So they don't hurt themselves. Or others. Yeah," Stiles rambled, his hands all over the place and not making eye contact with him.</p><p> </p><p>"...Okay," Okay. That sounded fake as fuck. Were there even wolves in this part of California? Okay. So maybe they were into some kinky shit or something. Jonathan wasn't going to judge them. "So... Do you want anything in the cell? Like... a bed... for the wolves?"</p><p> </p><p>Stiles was blushing so hard Jonathan thought he could feel his warmth from where he stood, "Nope. No nothing we'll... we'll deal with the things inside the cell we just need... the cell. Installed. Please."</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan nodded, huffing out a fake laugh and only half-joking, "Is that even legal? I should make you both sign something with my lawyer."</p><p> </p><p>Stiles' laughter sounded just as uncomfortable and panicked as Jonathan felt, "The Sheriff authorized it for... wildlife. Yeah."</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan raised his eyebrows. Wow, he was really doing that a lot with this couple, "Isn't your dad the Sheriff?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. Listen, man, I gotta go. I'll email you tho! Send me those papers you want me to sign, yeah? See ya!"</p><p> </p><p>And like that he was gone, leaving Jonathan wondering what the fuck had they gotten themselves into.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 63: 17 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>It comes, as all bad things in Jonathan's life do, as a surprise.</p><p> </p><p>This time, it's in the form of Derek popping into the construction site unannounced.</p><p> </p><p>Usually, Jonathan really liked Derek. He seemed nice and levelheaded, was obviously whipped for his husband and his friends, didn't seem to care a lot about whether Jonathan could or couldn't find the specific shade of blue he'd used in his original design and had taken every issue that had come up in the renovation with a cool head and a desire to push forward.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, Stiles was usually the one to show up with the weirdest requests. Really, he shouldn't feel as dreadful as he did right now.</p><p> </p><p>He gained a couple of minutes of peace by showing Derek around, gesturing at the reinforced beams and the newly installed herringbone design floors.</p><p> </p><p>Derek nodded and hummed, and commented on the good work and progress.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen, Jonathan. I came to talk to you about the garden."</p><p> </p><p>Right. The garden. Jonathan had been waiting for this.</p><p> </p><p>The garden was one of the main points of the property, a huge stretch of empty grass available before the forest of the Preserve began. </p><p> </p><p>It was a white canvass every owner would've dreamed to make theirs.</p><p> </p><p>But, surprisingly, the Stilinski-Hale couple hadn't said anything about it. Not a word, not even when Jonathan had explicitly asked.</p><p> </p><p>"We wanted an orchard on one side. A big one, to grow vegetables in it. And some training grounds closer to the forest. I'll send you some sketches I made."</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan nodded. That seemed a reasonable and good use of the space, and seeing how buffed and in shape everyone in their friend group was, he'd assumed they did CrossFit or something like that.</p><p> </p><p>So far, everything seemed easy enough to do.</p><p> </p><p>And then, Derek dropped the bomb.</p><p> </p><p>"And on the other side, a pool."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 64: 18 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Stiles didn't want a pool.</p><p> </p><p>And thus began the Big Pool Divide.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 65: 18 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't the first time a couple fought in front of Jonathan. It wouldn't be the last, either.</p><p> </p><p>Sadly, renovations brought the worst out of everyone. Mix stress, money issues, sub-optimal living conditions and the constant need to make choices, and you get people being touchy and snapping at the smallest design choice.</p><p> </p><p>At least Stiles and Derek weren't <em>mean</em> to each other the way other couples were (well, some were cruel even in their jokes, in their dismissive remarks, constantly putting down their partners. Jonathan had had to hold back from telling people to stop looking for a house and get a divorce more times than he could count). They were just... disagreeing. Loudly. In the middle of their future front entrance.</p><p> </p><p>He'd spent the first five minutes trying not to eavesdrop, but then he'd admitted to himself that he was curious about the reason for the fight.</p><p> </p><p>Well, he knew the <em>main</em> reason (the pool), but he didn't actually understand what that whole thing was about. They obviously had the money, and the room, and they hadn't seemed too worried whenever one of their additions pushed the finish line further and further away.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, Stiles totally seemed like someone who <em>would</em> want a pool. It was really weird that he didn't.</p><p> </p><p>"You know you want this, Stiles, why are you being so stubborn!"</p><p> </p><p>"Pools are dangerous! You know they are! <em>We</em> more than anyone know they are!"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Everything</em> is dangerous! We're not avoiding the lacrosse field, or the school, or the whole damn forest! Everything's <em>been</em> dangerous for us. We're getting over that, moving forward."</p><p> </p><p>Just who <em>were</em> these people?</p><p> </p><p>Stiles was quiet for a moment, before sighing. Jonathan had been around him enough that he could practically see the way he was slumping with it, before throwing his hands up in the air.</p><p> </p><p>"I know that! It's just. This is gonna be our <em>home</em>. Our kids are going to grow up here, Der. They'll already... You said it yourself, everything is dangerous already."</p><p> </p><p>Derek was quiet for a moment longer, and the next time he spoke his voice sounded muffled, as if his face was pressed against something, "Our kids are going to be safe. I promise. You know I don't usually make promises, but I promise, okay? They'll have like ten pairs of ears on them all the time. We'll put those kid guards. I'll let you surround the thing with as much mountain ash as you want."</p><p> </p><p>They were silent for a moment, but somehow this silence didn't feel as heavy as it did before. Jonathan wasn't even in the room, and he still got the feeling that the Big Pool Divide was over. </p><p> </p><p>"We still don't have to get a pool, if you don't want to. It just. I thought it'd be a nice thing. But it's your choice, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>Stiles laughed wetly, "A pool does sound like a lot of fun, actually," he said.</p><p> </p><p>And then, a moment later, loud enough for him to hear, "Jonathan! Did you hear that? We're getting the pool!"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 82: 17 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>"Stiles?"</p><p> </p><p>"Jonathan? Hi! Is everything -oh shit!- everything ok?"</p><p> </p><p>"Uhh sure. Is this a bad time? You sound out of breath."</p><p> </p><p>"No no, everything's fine, everything's perfect! Just uh- running. Did you need anything?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, I was about to order the backsplash tiles. Did you get the chance to study the samples I sent you?"</p><p> </p><p>A worrying crash came through the line.</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I'm sorry, hold in line for a moment, yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>He faintly heard Stiles shout something about... a fairy ring? Boyd getting Scott out of one?</p><p> </p><p>There was another resounding crash, something that sounded like what vibrations felt like, and then it was silent again.</p><p> </p><p>"Jonathan?"</p><p> </p><p>"Still here."</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry about that. You were saying?"</p><p> </p><p>"The backsplash...?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh right! Yeah, that hexagonal forest green one was beautiful, we'd totally love that. What?" There was some mumbling on the other side, "Derek says it goes well with the copper details you were discussing."</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan nodded. It really did.</p><p> </p><p>There was yet another crash, followed by an annoyed groan from Stiles and someone telling him to hang up the phone.</p><p> </p><p>"Listen, gotta go. Order those, they'll look great! We'll pop up by the house asap, okay? Bye!"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 87: 17 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Things had been moving along surprisingly fast in the last couple of days. Privately, Jonathan adjudicated it to the fact that everyone had been almost suspiciously quiet.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't like he didn't like them or anything, but he only had a couple of days every few weeks where nobody popped up unexpectedly, and by now he knew to make the most of them.</p><p> </p><p>He'd been working late that night, wanting to oversee the pool installation himself. The house was coming together nicely, and so was the garden, and even if they still had a little bit to go, Jonathan allowed himself a moment to feel proud of their progress.</p><p> </p><p>It'd been a different experience from the ones they usually had. While every family was different in its own way, this one had a whole lot of peculiarities, which despite weirding him out at times, had also made the experience all the more special.</p><p> </p><p>He was startled by the sound of a howl, followed by some answering ones, closer to the house than he'd have wanted them.</p><p> </p><p>Huh. Maybe there were actually wolves in California after all.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Day 100: 17 weeks renovation</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>The photography thing is one of those things Jonathan liked to do nearing the end of every project.</p><p> </p><p>He sent the families to a nice local photographer, had them take their pictures with nice clothes and backgrounds, printed them in black and white, and hanged them around the house.</p><p> </p><p>It served mainly two purposes. First, it was the easiest way he knew for a house to feel like a home. Walking into a house you've presumably spent all of your money in can be quite overwhelming, as new places with no memories attached tend to be, and seeing photos of yourself and your loved ones in honored places was the best way to make you feel like all the effort was worth it.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Jonathan had to admit that most of the time he did it for reason number two. Meaning, it got the owners out of his hair for a couple of hours, days if he was lucky, right at the stage of the project where they got more intense, insisting on checking every detail, usually stressed about money and pressuring him with deadlines.</p><p> </p><p>While this family was pretty lenient regarding both time and money, he couldn't say the same about the details thing.</p><p> </p><p>And it wasn't even Derek or Stiles most of the time. Jonathan now knew every single one of their friends, not only by name (he had gotten pretty familiar with them early on in the project, with how much time they spent loitering around) but by preferred color palette, what fabrics they liked the most, where they had stood in the Big Pool Divide and whether they thought a streaked or spotted quartz countertop would look better with the stainless steel appliances.</p><p> </p><p>So, he'd sent them over to the photographer, Stiles's dad and Melissa included, and got back a couple of dozen photos that looked straight out of a magazine. He had to admit that they all did look just as cute and as beautiful as his design assistant was saying they did.</p><p> </p><p>The following time Derek had popped in to see if he was needed for anything (this was usually around the time Jonathan forbid the owners of stepping into the house until everything was done, but he'd already assumed it was a lost battle with this project), Jonathan had mentioned that they could all bring some older photos to the house and he'd make room for them.</p><p> </p><p>He'd expected to get Stiles and Derek's wedding photos, and maybe a handful of other family photos they had lying around.</p><p> </p><p>What he hadn't expected was the absolute <em>flood</em> of pictures he got in the following couple of days.</p><p> </p><p>They came as Scott with a flash drive filled with photos of him and Stiles over the years, first as babies in their mothers' laps, then grinning to the camera with matching front teeth missing, followed by one with their arms around each other at their middle school graduation, then sitting together in Stiles' jeep the summer before they turned 15.</p><p> </p><p>Then came Erica, with some of the best quality amateur shots Jonathan had seen in years, mostly candids from their group over the years. There was Derek doing Allison's hair before her wedding, Boyd cooking with Stiles' dad at Christmas, Lydia working at her kitchen table while Scott and Isaac played video games in the background. All of them lying somewhere grassy, limbs so intertwined it was hard to see which belonged to who.</p><p> </p><p>Derek brought in their wedding pictures, as expected, as well as pictures from different milestones for all of them. High school graduations, weddings, proposals, first-days-at-college, first-days-back-home, every picture spoke of his love for these people, of his need for them to know how much he treasured them.</p><p> </p><p>The Sheriff had been next, with old albums filled with pictures of Stiles's mother, of their youth and their wedding, of her pregnant and radiant and then with a tiny little baby which she looked at with adoration.</p><p> </p><p>Stiles had, surprisingly, been the one to bring the least amount of pictures. He'd also shown up later than everyone else, so late Jonathan had assumed he'd sent his choices over along with Derek's. He brought restored photographs, some yellowed by time, some singed around the edges, some restored from negatives that had been clearly painstakingly cleaned after years of abandonment.</p><p> </p><p>They showed people Jonathan hadn't seen before in a house he could faintly recognize, a young-looking Derek surrounded by parents and siblings, smiling wide to the camera. An older couple sitting together by the fireplace, Derek posing with one of his sisters in front of a Christmas tree, the whole family in the garden for a barbecue.</p><p> </p><p>Stiles was rambling about finding them years ago and keeping it a secret as he tried to work on them without damaging the few ones they had, fingers subconsciously stroking the edges of the pictures.</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan took them from him, promising him they'd be in a place of honor, and sent him on his way.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Move-In day</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Move-in days were always bittersweet for Jonathan.</p><p> </p><p>The days always began in a hurry, a million and one things that still needed fixing, pillows that needed fluffing, appliances that needed polishing. His team was always running around cleaning everything and putting on finishing touches and vases of flowers he knew for a fact wouldn't last a week in most homes.</p><p> </p><p>And then it was showtime, and they were cracking a couple of jokes for the camera before opening the doors for the ecstatic homeowners.</p><p> </p><p>Stiles and Derek came in first, looking misty-eyed before they had even stepped fully into the living room. They gave them the usual tour around the house, oohing and aahing whenever he or Drew pointed out any of the details they'd insisted on (the ones they had on camera, at least), running their fingers on the surface of their kitchen island, making the expected commentary about how many guests could now sit on their dining room table, how right Jonathan had been for insisting on the darker floors.</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan could see the real enthusiasm in their eyes, the way they purposely bumped into each other as if to tell their husband that this was their <em>house</em>, but he was also amused to notice how well aware they were of the whole role-playing side of this, how they were playing up every reaction for the camera almost as much as Drew and Jonathan himself were.</p><p> </p><p>They skipped showing the basement for obvious reasons (namely, that there was <em>a cell</em> down there) as well as the bedrooms, as they always did for privacy reasons (they'd turned out great, of course. Jonathan wasn't an amateur, and Lydia wouldn't have let him live if anything was less than her standards), but they did show them their brand new garden, pristine pool (with its equally pristine child safety pool fence), perfect little orchard, a huge barbecue with sitting space near the side of the house, the training grounds further back.</p><p> </p><p>The wall of photographs ended up being the last thing on the tour, almost by design. Originally, Jonathan had planned on putting the few pictures he'd expected to receive and some of the ones they'd had taken along the staircase, perhaps a couple above the fireplace. And those were indeed there, but he'd ended up expanding those areas to the hallway that went to the office and the library, every photograph there telling the story of how they'd gotten there, of all the people they loved and who loved them back, of all the memories they would build in this house.</p><p> </p><p>There wasn't one dry eye left in the whole house.</p><p> </p><p>Production let the rest of the family in, they got shots of them all hugging and celebrating, of them looking at the photographs (and crying, too).</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan and Drew filmed their closing remarks, fake-left the house to shoot the front door closing and everyone inside waving their goodbyes.</p><p> </p><p>And then the cameras were off, and everything was pretty much done.</p><p> </p><p>They said their actual goodbyes while production began taking down their equipment and wrapping off, were showered in 'thank you's by everyone and pulled into surprising hugs.</p><p> </p><p>They left for real about an hour later, with promises to let them know when the episodes would air.</p><p> </p><p>They had barely finished closing the door when the chattering inside multiplied exponentially, "Do we do dinner or setting up the wards first?" and "See? I was right about the accent colors" and "Woah, this couch is <em>huge</em>!" mingling together.</p><p> </p><p>Man, Jonathan loved his job.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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